Into The Arms Of Draco (Saints In The Night 6.3)
by Denigoddess2001
Summary: (Gargoyles/ Xena Crossover) Draco is looking for a few good men. Can one Gargoyle and a Mutant get close enough through the god of war to retrieve the Chronos Fragments? Demetrius and Wren decide 'if you can't beat them, join the army.
1. Chapter One

Saints In The Night 6.2  
Into the Arms Of Draco  
  
Wren stirred slowly as her body felt draped in gentle warmth. She stretched languidly as the first rays of sunlight brightened the cozy room. The content young woman turned on her left side and propped herself on her arm. She scrutinized the sleeping figure lying peacefully next to her. She deliberately studied the slumbering titan resting beside her. She watched as her warrior's broad chest rose and fell in synchronization of his deep breathing. She listened as her heartbeat found flawless convergence with his inhalations. A wavy white lock of hair fell across one ebony brow ridge. Wren impulsive swept away the stubborn strand. A perceptive violet gaze came across his striking features.  
  
"Well met, Milady Wren." His rumbling baritone sent pulsations of heartfelt warmth throughout her being.  
  
"Well met yourself, Tall Dark and Completely Captivating." She brought her lips to meet his. "Sleep well?"  
  
"We met in my dreams and I knew contentment." A large talon gently stroked her oval face. "Are you well, Love?"  
  
She blushed prettily at his concerned words. Her eyes fell downcast in subtle awkwardness. "I'm didn't know that I could be this happy."  
  
A joy filled Demetrius' hopeful heart as he heard his Wren say such cherished words [Soon, Milady, I hope that you will find that your heart wishes to be one mine.]  
  
  
After a hearty breakfast in the tavern, Wren and Demetrius were ready to take on the day. They discussed their options to best retrieve the Chronos fragments from the Greek god of war. Direct confrontation was ruled out as an option. They decided upon a far subtler course of action. They knew they needed to get close in proximity to Ares to get those fragments.  
  
"How?" Wren rubbed her chin in meditation. "It's not as if we can walk up to Ares, introduce ourselves and ask for the fragments."  
  
"Did you not say, Milady, that there is a temple to Ares located here in Amphipolis?" Demetrius leaned forward to whisper the words in her ear.  
  
"There is." She took another bite of her scrambled eggs. "We head there and see if we can pick up anything. Hercules dropped us right where Ares supposedly landed with the fragments. It seems only logical that's where he would head next."  
  
"It is certainly worth consideration." He agreed.  
  
A few dinars covered the cost of the meal. With an extra tip left on the table for Cyrene, the complete duo made their way toward the war god's temple. Demetrius discreetly pulled the cowl of his over his features. He flashed her a glaring white smile beneath the dark shadows of his cowl. A large hand came to rest possessively on her shoulder.  
  
They saw the rather hefty, malodorous barbarian that had blatantly flirted with Wren the previous evening. Wren knew Demetrius recognized him when she heard a low growl erupt from Demetrius. Wren trembled when she remembered that Demetrius was other than Human. At times, his nature seemed bestial and animalistic.  
  
Wren abruptly turned into Demetrius' chest. His arms protectively came around her and drew her into him. He gently guided her to step with him into a nearby alley. The stench of the backwater barbarian was enough to incite Wren's retching reaction. Wren carefully peered around the corner to better observe the large oaf guffawing with his cronies.  
  
"He's wearing a ram's head cloak pin." She whispered to her lover. "That's the symbol for Ares in these parts."  
  
Demetrius said nothing as he brought two talons to her lips indicating for her to do the same. He cocked his head with pointed ear in direction of the loud, slurring voice of the lout and his entourage.  
  
"Yeah, I'm goin' to the temple and I'm gonna hook up with Draco and his army. I'm gonna make a lotta dinars serving in Ares' army and find me a little 'rape and pillage.'" He chuckled as one of his buddies slapped him heartily on the back.  
  
"How you gonna meet the qualifications?" A skeptical voice cut in on the merriment. The voice sounded crisp and articulate. It certainly didn't belong to any of the armored buffoons in the group.  
  
"Draco's making all volunteers fight his best warriors. We best him, we're in."  
  
"Really?" The voice replied with a dignified drawl. "And if you fail, then you know it's death. Ares has no room for weak and pathetic hang-abouts in his army."   
  
Demetrius' violet gaze found Wren's questioning glance. They nodded and knowingly smiled at one another.   
  
[You know, hearing your thoughts isn't such a bad thing.] Wren winked at the massive Gargoyle holding her close. [It does have it's advantages.]  
  
[Indeed.] His silky voice whispered inside her mind. [It certainly did last night, I must agree.]  
  
[Demetrius! Get with the program.] Her stern admonition echoed in his thoughts. It also caused turgid flesh to turn flaccid. [We follow Ugly here and we do as the Greeks do and we are in.]  
  
[You are no warrior.] He reminded her. [You have not the skills. I have no wish to leave you to join this Draco's army.]  
  
[You're right I'm not.] She wriggled her brows. [But, I am also a woman of many skills.]  
  
"Nay!" He whispered sharply. "I'll not have you in battle or combat. I shan't allow harm to befall you."  
  
"I truly admire the protective streak." She admitted. "But swords rule this land and I have no desire to stay here."  
  
"Milady, I beseech you, let your keen mind guide you. Think not of involving yourself in the wicked ways of this war god."  
  
"We'll take each situation as it arises." She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You don't want to see me hurt and I've no desire to go where fools rush in. I can't be frightened anymore. I can't hide my head in the sand and pray everything fixes itself."  
  
She turned from her lover and sighed heavily. "Last night, when we made love for the first time, I realized that was the first truly brave thing I've ever done in my life. I realized that I've spent my entire life being afraid and taking the easy way out."  
  
"Wren, now is not the time for brash behavior." He counseled her. "Part of being a warrior is not letting foolish fancy and swaggering conceit cloud sound thought."  
  
"True." Wren nodded at Demetrius' wise words. "I don't want to hide my head in the sand anymore. I don't want to be afraid of everything. For once, I want to be in charge of my own destiny. I don't want it to rest in the hands of someone else. I don't want to rely on someone else to make my choices for me."  
  
"Then, choose wisely, Milady." He urged her as he planted a quick kiss upon her brow. "Choose well."  
  
"I'm still learning how to choose wisely and well." She took his large ebony hands in hers and kissed them. "I am choosing not to deny my love for you. I believe that is wise. I want to do right by you. I hope that I love you well."  
  
"This is a far cry from the reserved songbird of this evening last." Demetrius said carefully. He warily looked around the corner to see that the barbarian and his friends had continued toward the temple. "The joining of our hearts and minds may cause some extraordinary changes within both of us. I wish not to see you become headstrong and defiant."  
  
"I'm neither." Wren shook her head in disbelief. "We have a window of opportunity here. "I'm not going to be afraid of life anymore. I don't want to resign myself to living here because I was afraid to get my hands dirty."  
  
"I am your protector and your champion." He stated with quiet dignity.   
Demetrius' grip on her arms slightly tightened. "I am your lover. I shall do everything in my power to keep you safe."  
  
"I know I'm not the bravest, smartest or most talented person in the world, Demetrius. But damn it! I can do this. I have to. I refuse to remain hidden in the shadows."  
  
Wren broke free of his strong embrace and strode toward the temple. She felt his concern resonate inside her mind. His growing confusion at her sudden change in attitude stunned her. She had spoken with medical experts in passing regarding empathic bondings.   
  
"Name of a songbird and spirit of an eagle." Demetrius had told her more than once.  
  
Finally she stood in front of the temple. It seemed gothic and daunting even in broad daylight. It's tall, spiraling towers blotted out the brightness of the sun. The iron gates at the front separated the temple from the rest of the village. A long line of prospective warriors wound around the front gate and along the fortified stone wall of the temple.  
  
"Wren." A voice startled her. With a small squeak, Wren jumped almost a foot into the air.   
"   
"Demetrius, don't do that." She gave him a foul stare. "We have a bit of a wait."  
  
Wren stepped subtly behind a tree located near the front gate. She held out her hands and closed her eyes. A slight breeze stirred the leaves about their feet. The clouds danced quickly overhead and a tingling traveled along Demetrius' spine. His eyes darted to her palms where a faint glowing aura surrounded them.   
  
"Dragoness, hear our plea and let Wren's luck magick work for us. Be with us as we seek to right the wrongs of the god of war." He said the humble entreaty as he thought he heard a power surge building near them.  
  
"You two!" A rough voice called out near them. Wren turned to see a strapping warrior in armor point to them.  
  
"Yes, Sir?" Wren turned her attention to the young man who wore Draco Army standard issue.  
  
"The one underneath the cloak... you're large." The man's gaze traveled candidly along the Gargoyle's form. "Remove your cowl."  
  
Demetrius cast Wren a wary look. She curtly nodded. "Do it, Dem."  
  
Cautiously, the Gargoyle removed the cowl to reveal his exotic ebony features. The young lieutenant's mouth fell agape at seeing the white hair, the ebony skin and the pointed ears. "By the head of Ares, you're a Harpie."  
  
"Nay, Sir. I am a Gargoyle." He spoke with great dignity.  
  
"You, there, girl!" The man called. "Is your beast good with a sword?"  
  
"Are you?" She whispered.  
  
"Aye." Demetrius growled.  
  
"The best." She boasted proudly.  
  
"What about you, girl? Are you a warrior?" Came the next question.  
  
"I can be when needed. I have many skills." She silently prayed that her glib reply would not cost too much.  
  
"Harpie, your name?" The soldier barked.   
  
"Demetrius."  
  
"Girl?"  
  
"Wren Summers." She gave Demetrius a broad grin and showed him her crossed fingers.  
"Rensumeres (ren-su-meh-reese)." He repeated. He yelled to another soldier several yards away in a language Wren couldn't identify. Then, the young lieutenant returned his attention to the duo. "Make your way to the front of the line and speak with Captain Duricles. Tell him that you are worthy of special consideration. Tell him that it is on Flavious' authority. That will let him know I sent you. Now, hurry."  
"We shall comply at once." The ebony Warrior replaced his hood over his alien features. He offered his arm to Wren and they quietly made their way to the front of the line.  
Sitting at a crude wooden table was a swarthy man with thick black hair barely tamed with micro braids. He wore a headdress that reminded Wren somewhat of a black feather duster. His armor was clean and without dents.   
"Are you Duricles?" Wren asked the question before she had time to give it a second thought.  
"I am." He replied gruffly. He leaned back in his chair and scrutinized the svelte young woman. "You crowded in front of the line."  
  
"Flavious said that we were to tell you that my comrade and I are worthy of special consideration." The words left her mouth with more bravado than she felt.   
"Do you serve Ares?" He chuckled.  
  
"We serve anybody that pays us well. I want riches, glory, and victory in battle." The lie almost stuck in her throat. [Please don't let him hear than damned waver.]  
"Okay, you want special consideration, hmmm..." Captain Duricles motioned to five of the guards. "Take these two to the arena and test them. If they pass, issue them standard gear. If they don't, kill them. Draco doesn't tolerate arrogance."  
The five armed guards surrounded the duo and marched them inwards towards the center of camp. There, they saw an area roped off away from everything else. Wren almost wretched at the stench of sweat, blood, and filth permeating her being. She tapped her wrist to suppress the urge to vomit. She noticed that inside the ring were two armor-clad warriors with sword and axe hacking away at each other.  
With one fell swoop, the large behemoth decapitated his opponent with the sharp blade of his axe. The head soared from the arena and landed with a dull thud at Wren's feet. She stared wide-eyed at the head and then at Demetrius. The bloody face staring lifelessly at her revolted her. She let her boot fly and the head sailed through the air over the heads of the crowd. It landed at the behemoth's feet with a solid plunk in the bloody mud. A roaring cheer from Draco's soldiers proclaimed the behemoth's victory.  
"You!" He pointed to Wren. He motioned to her. "You wish to join the Army of Ares? Do you think yourself worthy?"  
"I'm here, aren't I?" Came her caustic reply.  
"You'd do better as the camp whore." The crowd chuckled at his coarse insult.  
"I thought that was your job." She retorted as she stepped forward. There was a silence that fell over the crowd as the behemoth's brows furrowed in rage at the insult.  
"I'm going to take great pleasure in carving out your tongue before I turn you over to my boys before you die."  
"Maybe, I'll be the lucky one." [Me and my big mouth.]  
"Step into the ring. If you win, you prove yourself worthy to be a soldier of Ares. You lose, and you'll be fucked by every one of his soldiers before the sun goes down."  
"Wren, don't do this." Demetrius warned. "There is a building to the left. I need only to make an ascent and I will take us from this place."  
"You'll win hands down." She hissed at the Gargoyle. "I don't have that luxury of being a warrior by nature. Just pray to your Dragoness that luck doesn't desert me."  
Wren passed between the ropes and stepped into the ring.  
"Where's your weapon?" Came the booming voice.  
She called upon the forces of fortune to aid her in her battle. She felt that familiar tingling along her skin as she surveyed her surroundings. He was almost seven feet and that wasn't good. He was big, burly, and well-armored. However, he wasn't in what she considered good battle armor. It was studded leather and it didn't cover much.  
"It's a secret." She stalled. "Come and find out."  
His laugh carried an ominous tone. He advanced forward swiftly and swung his long-handled battle-axe at her head. She watched as the blade glistened in the mid-morning sun. The stain of blood still baptized the nicked blade. It seemed as though time slowed to a crawl and the blade made it's way ever so slowly toward her.  
The feel of the crowd about her ceased to be loud and aggressive. She noticed that a stillness fell about them. The blade of the axe still advanced at a dramatically slow pace. Wren stupefied reaction didn't last more than a millisecond. Paying homage to her favorite action character, she let forth a war hoop reminiscent of Xena.   
She ducked.  
The roar of the crowd resumed it's normal volume. The axe slashed above her in a blur of metal and blood. She caught the look of dumbfoundment upon the behemoth's face. Standing with legs wide apart, he brought the blade downwards with every intention of cleaving Wren's skull in two.  
She tempted fate again.  
A roar of pain and surprise came from the behemoth as his stopped his attack in mid-swing. Wren dodged to the side to miss the chopping blade as it landed harmlessly in the mud. She remembered Wolverine's words "Go for the vulnerable spots. Forget the fancy shit and just take out the enemy."  
Wren cried out another resounding war cry and slid into her opponent's knee as if he were home base. She smiled with pleasure as it bent at an unnatural angle and caused him to collapse to one side. Wren failed to see the solid iron fist swinging from the side. It caught the side of her jaw and sent her head sideways.  
"Not so lucky now, huh, little girl?" He chortled as he stood above her. She tried to focus her sight and instead saw three behemoths instead of one. Dazed and disoriented, she failed to see him draw a dagger from his boot.   
She rolled over to her side just as the dagger planted itself in the thick mud. The behemoth roared in frustration at his missed attempted. He grabbed Wren by her hair and pulled her to standing. Another hand pulled back to punch her.  
The incredible agony of being lifted by one's hair cleared Wren's addled brain. She brought her wrists up to his arm and then followed with both feet kicking him soundly in the groin.   
His eyes became wide with surprise then narrowed with rage. He then gave her a slow, cruel smile that signaled that he remained unaffected by her flawlessly aimed kick. His hand came forward to strike while her hand came to her chakrum. His eyes glittered with the light of victory. Her hands glowed with the mutant ability of luck manipulation.  
The behemoth's hand found the tender flesh of Wren's cheek. Her annulus found it's way into her hand's grip. Her head flew to the side as the strong blow bruised her cheek. She spit out the blood that flowed from her cut lip. The bladed circlet sliced through the warrior's wrist as though it were little more than soft butter.  
She felt to her knees in the mud bruised and bloody. The behemoth screamed in anguish as he pulled back a bloody stump. Wren's eyes gleamed with a grim satisfaction at her well-placed attack. She rose to her feet while the behemoth still screamed in agony.  
The heel of her boot found his chin and sent him reeling backwards into the mud. Her hands blaze with their unnatural aura. She grasped the annulus firmly in her hand and brought it down to give him the fate that he intended for her.  
"Enough!" A voice bellowed from behind her. She found her wrist in the strong grasp of an incredibly strong hand. The battle haze lifted from her mind and she turned to her attention to the interloper.  
A captivating man with caramel skin and full battle regalia stood above her holding her hand. His black-feathered war bonnet seemed perfectly natural on him. His onyx eyes glittered with amusement.  
"A mere slip of a girl besting one of my best warriors." He shook his head in amusement. "You fight like an Amazon. You're sneaky. I like that. What's your name?"  
"Rensumeres." She gave him the Greek bastardization of her very simple name.  
"Are you an Amazon?"  
"No, I'm a linguist by trade." She answered.  
"Where are you from?"  
"I'm from Li-" and thought better of her strange answer. "Caledonia."  
"Near Britannia." He eyed the weapon in her hand. "Where did you get the chakrum?"  
"It's not a chakrum." She glared at imposing figure standing over her.  
"You've got some nice moves." The man helped her to her feet. "But mere human moves that fast."  
[No mere human is right...but, hyper speed isn't one of my gifts.] Wren thought the entire episode bizarre.  
[Now isn't the time to be glib?]  
"Pardon me for seeming rude, but, who are you?"  
"The man you're going to work for." His smooth reply gave him a dashing, forbidden air. His black armor perfect polished caused a glare that blinded her.  
"Draco?" She asked cautiously. Then, she studied the man better. His hair was dark, curly and cropped close to his head. He wore small gold hoops in both ears. Wren couldn't help but notice the two-inch scar on his right cheek. It gave him a sinister air. She knew that it was the infamous warlord. He looked exactly like the actor who played the dashing warlord. [Paydirt.]  
"Your new employer." He turned to the cloaked figure stepping into the arena. The cloak flew away to reveal an enrage protector. With wings unfurled to their full span, eyes aglow in the daylight, and the resounding bellow that filled the air, Demetrius was every inch the inhuman warrior ready for battle.  
"Unhand her!" He roared as he came forward with fists clenched.  
"Demetrius, wait! This is Draco." Wren cried. She held her hand to stop him. "He's the one we want to work for, remember?"  
"No, let the harpie approach." Draco motioned him forward. "Rensumeres, Duricles will take you to be outfitted with weapons and armor."  
"I'd prefer to keep my own if that's alright." She said shyly.  
"Suit yourself." He shrugged. "All right, I'm in the mood for a challenge this morning. So, do you think your friend can beat me?"  
"I'd suggest sending expendable men against him." She warned. "He's a Gargoyle."  
For the next several minutes, she watched the winged warrior and the warlord battle one another in the muddy arena. Draco danced around Demetrius with flips, volleys and other acrobatics. His deft knowledge of Martial arts landed strikes against his ebon opponent on more than one occasion.  
Demetrius tail was a deadly addition to his claws and wings. Wings furled and unfurled at rapid speed and set Draco flying until he landed on the ropes. Talons slashed through the leather armor until it hung on the human in tattered shreds. For what seemed hours the battle between the two warriors raged on until a well-placed blow brought Demetrius to his knees.  
"You're good, creature." Draco's harsh panting indicated that he was barely the victor. "You'll do."  
"I'm ...glad I meet." Demetrius coughed. "your approval."  
TO BE CONTINUED......  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter Two

Saints 6.3  
The Way Of The Warrior  
  
DISCLAIMER: X-MEN, GARGOYLES, HERCULES AND XENA DO NOT BELONG TO ME. THEY BELONG TO MARVEL, DISNEY, AND RENAISSANCE PICTURES. ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS BELONG TO DENIGODDESS2001. NO INFRINGMENT IS INTENDED. THIS IS DONE FOR LOVE NOT MONEY. PLEASE DO NOT SUE.  
  
They rode hard and fast from Thrace north toward Macedonia. Wren spent her days working with Duricles transcribing maps and documents as they headed north. They negotiated treaties with many villages as they made their way north. Wren became disheartened as she fulfilled her role as translator. She negotiated for supplies and foodstuffs with the locals as the army passed through their territories on their way to Macedonia.  
  
Wren managed to dissuade Draco from torching every village. Of the one hundred twenty villages they passed through, only thirty-three were burned to the ground. Demetrius managed to prove himself worthy of a commission and brandished the rank of lieutenant. Draco's interest in Wren proved advantageous.  
  
One morning in mid-summer, Wren busily translated a map of a rather arid region of Northern Greece. She noticed that the mocha skinned warrior. His piercing gaze bore into the middle of her back. How she abhorred the way he scrutinized her every mood.   
  
[Someday he might just stick a dagger in my back.]  
  
"What have you found according that map?" He asked.  
  
"It seems that we'll passing through Centaur territory according to this trade map." Wren's brow creased in contemplation. "If I remember right from the series, Amazons and Centaurs have a treaty of peace. That means trouble."  
  
"You say strange things, girl." He said gruffly. "But, you're usually right."  
  
"What's the standing number of your army?" She asked.  
  
"Eight thousand."   
  
"Amazons, according to this map made three years ago, have a standing army of warriors totaling 7.000. The centaurs are 2,000 strong. However, Amazons fight from the trees and Centaurs are excellent archers. Your people are primarily ground forces." She studied the map and found a path that led elsewhere. She pointed to the road marked on the map. "Here is where we want to go."  
  
"Through the valley of the rock giants! You're mad." His voice bellowed in the tent.  
  
"Your men are good, but they don't stand a chance against the Amazons and the centaurs. They are foot soldiers and cavalry not guerilla fighters." Wren turned to her commander. "Rock giants are descendants of Titans and exceptionally stupid. Eight thousand men are more than a match for a few hundred rock giants even when their twenty feet tall."  
  
"Since when did you learn such strategy?" He chuckled.  
  
"I'm a big Xena fan." She said absently.  
  
"Are you a friend of Xena's?"  
  
"Never met her to be honest. I've just have studied many of her exploits." Wren's nebulous reply caused him to give her a sly smile. [That and I watch re-runs on TV.]  
  
"Join me for dinner this evening Resumeres." He moved closer to her. He smelled strongly of leather, sweat, and spices. He towered head and shoulders over the young woman who considered herself tall at 5'7".  
  
"Dinner?" Her eyebrows seemingly flew off her brow in genuine surprise.  
  
"I have a proposition for you and your lover." When Draco smiled, she knew that meant trouble.  
  
"Demetrius?"  
  
"I've seen the way he handles my cache of weapons. He's better caliber of warrior than my men. I think he can be put to better use. You may fight well, but that mind is a terrible thing to waste." He tapped her on the forehead. "What you lack in beauty you compensate greatly in awareness."  
  
Wren turned her back to Draco and leaned on the table. She took several breaths to calm herself. She didn't want to admit that his words hadn't hurt. The words came from Draco but that didn't make them any less cutting. She dared to stare him in the eye as she turned to face him. "Don't you know better than to tell a lady she isn't easy on the eye."  
  
"O come on, Rensumeres, you don't care how you look to the men." Draco guffawed. "You have a keen mind and you're educated. You're worth three of my men just for your language skills alone. Because of recruiting efforts, my army has doubled in the past month. Ares will be pleased and that means blessings for me. In turn, that means something better for you."  
  
"What would that be?" She asked coyly.  
  
"You and Demetrius join me tonight at dinner and we'll talk." How she hated his smooth, seductive charm. [No wonder Xena had a hard time turning this guy down.]  
  
"All right, I'm curious." She nodded. "We'll be there."  
  
  
"Ach!" Wren executed a perfect strike on Demetrius' broad shoulder with her quarterstaff. "The son-of-a-bitch said 'What you lack in beauty you compensate greatly in awareness.'"  
  
Demetrius deflected most of the damage of her staff be parrying effectively. Her staff stood upright as they stood only inches away from each other. His eyes gleamed with mirth while hers burned with fury. "So, the warlord isn't smart enough to realize that you're lovelier than most mortal women. That is good. It is better for me."  
  
Wren brought her quarterstaff down and lodged it behind Demetrius' taloned ankle. She planted her legs in a pushing stance and twisted her quarterstaff. Her unique move upset Demetrius' balance. Her forward advance caused him to stumble backwards and fall over then end of her staff. The mirthful expression vanished, as he lay sprawled on his back staring at the end of staff centimeters from his face.  
  
"Do you surrender?"  
  
"Hades hath no fury like a woman scorned." He said with great solemnity. "I give."  
  
Wren extended her hand to the handsome Gargoyle lying on the ground. She helped him to his feet. He dusted himself off and cloaked his wings around him like gabardine. "You are growing dangerous with a staff in your hands. Your strength increases daily. You grow more confident in your moves."  
  
"This land and this life are making me hard, Dem." She looked away to the encampment of the army. "A month ago, I would have looked at this staff as one giant toothpick. Now, I realize that how I use the damn thing can determine if I live or die."  
  
"Do not let your anger cloud your judgment, Wren." Demetrius cautioned her gently. "Let not Draco's callus words find their way into your memory. They are but words."  
  
"It still hurts..." she said in a small voice. "Atalanta said that you spoke similar words."  
  
"Atalanta is a petty, bitter dame with nothing but the handle of her hammer to keep her company at night. No sire would find his way to her with her bitterness."  
  
"You said that I was plain." She cornered him.  
  
"I was erroneous in my words." Demetrius cupped her chin. "Let us return to our tent and I will show you what I think of your beauty now."  
  
"Demetrius, you have a one-track mind." She snorted.  
  
"Let me remind you that I feel silk beneath my talons when I stroke your golden skin. I find myself lost in eyes of amber and jade. Your hair catches the rays of the sun."  
  
"Yada yada yada." She interrupted. "You love me. But, still the words hurt. I'll deal with it and get over it."  
  
"You let yourself become jaded and you will lose your humanity."  
  
"Speaking of lost humanity." She wanted more than anything to change the particularly sensitive subject. "Draco has invited us to dinner in his tent tonight. He has a proposition for us."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"His army has doubled in the past month because of my supposed recruiting efforts. I speak all the local languages and I'm learning how to lie to innocent people. He thinks his army is better trained because of your adeptness with just about any weapon in his stockpile." Wren leaned forward and spoke in a quiet voice. "I think we're going to get a raise."  
  
"And you think that he means us no harm?"  
  
"If he wanted us dead he would have killed us by now." She whispered in one tantalizing pointed ebony ear. "I don't think he suspects anything and that's the way I like it."  
  
"Perchance you are right, Milady." Demetrius' tail twitched violently. "Be on your guard this night."  
  
"You'll be there, won't you?" Tension filled her voice. "It would look bad for us if you weren't."  
  
"I will be there, Wren." He vowed. "Where you go, I go."  
  
  
  
After sundown, Wren made her way to her tent. In many of her negotiations she acquired fineries otherwise not available to her. With great care she selected a Roman lady's gown of deep indigo silk. She chose to accessorize with Phoenician gold. One of Draco's concubines intricately braided her hair while another rubbed her back with scented oils.   
  
Within the hour, she met Demetrius at the entrance of the warlord's tent. She noticed that the handsome warrior wore fine black leather armor and new bracers with sharp studs. Rather than donning his kilt he wore leather pants that hugged his sleek, muscular thighs. Her heart somersaulted inside her bosom as she drank in Demetrius' demonic gorgeousness.  
  
"Milady?" He asked as he offered his lover his arm.  
  
"I'm ready. Let's go." She took his arm in hers.  
  
They held back the flap of the tent and entered the den of decadence. Wren saw several of Draco's concubines dancing around the tent for his officers. One kneeled before an officer resting back on red velvet pillows. As Wren noticed the girl's head bobbing in rhythm, she quickly turned away blushing. The officer's moans left little to the imagination as to the activity.  
  
"An inner haven of piousness and sanctity." She drolled.  
  
"Demetrius, Rensumeres, come and sit with me." Draco motioned to them to join him at his table. They advanced toward him and sat where he bade them. He had Wren on his right and the Ebony warrior at his left.  
  
He motioned for one of the veiled concubines to serve them food and wine. The frightened girl said nothing as she trembled while she poured the wine. When done, the wide-eyed girl flitted from the scene in a flurry of silk and satin. Draco chortled deeply at the young woman's nervousness. "Good help is hard to find these days."  
  
The feast continued and the three exchanged small talk. Some of the concubines preformed the dance of the seven veils. The wild roar from the officers indicated their strong approval of the entertainment. Wren sat there and gingerly sipped her Athenian wine. She was not amused.  
  
"Let's get down to business." Draco finally turned to look at Wren. "You have negotiated two treaties and double my army in a month. Your knowledge for languages and your aptitude for strategy are invaluable. I'll keep it simple. I offer you the commission of Captain and four hundred dinars a month if you'll consent to sign on for a year."  
  
"I'm already doing that now."  
  
"If I keep you around, Ares will be pleased and give me great blessings and riches." Draco reminded her. "You're my good luck charm. I've won the last six battles because of your counsel. I need your skills."  
  
Wren remained silent as she watched the warlord face Demetrius.  
  
"I offer you the rank of lieutenant and three hundred dinars a month if you'll become the one of my trainers for my troops. Your spryness in battle makes you a worthy adversary. I want you working for me."  
  
Demetrius growled. Wren wondered if it were in contemplation or contempt.  
  
"I shall consider your offer." Was the nebulous response.  
  
Wren imagined the Demetrius' clever mind sizing up the situation. If they held Draco's favor, they might get a better opportunity to retrieve the fragments from Ares. [Hell, it's worth a shot.] Wren mentally shrugged.  
  
"Good." Draco heartily patted Demetrius on the back. "Now, let's enjoy the entertainment."  
  
Wren knew that she had done her job to well....  
  
TO BE CONTINUED...  
  
  
  
  



End file.
